


Hello Summer!

by birds89birds



Series: Vigilante Frat House [6]
Category: Deadpool (Movieverse), Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Bisexual Peter Parker, Feelings Realization, Gen, OH ALSO no like. Romantic Shit happens, Peter Parker is a Little Shit, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Roombas, Taking Advantage of Mass Hysteria As a Joke, Terrorizing Bigots As A Summer Vacation Plan, Wade Wilson is a Little Shit, but!!! there May be stuff later, just feelings realization, only in like chapter 5 tho im sorry, you dont technically have to read the first 4 if you're here for the peter/ned/mj
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:33:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28675263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/birds89birds/pseuds/birds89birds
Summary: Out of all of those in the Vigilante Squad (good name pending), Peter and Wade are the only ones who have nonhuman genes. Obviously, they decide that means it's their personal mission to terrorize every anti-mutant group in New York.aka: five times peter and wade caused problems on purpose, and one time they just watched.
Relationships: Michelle Jones/Ned Leeds/Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Wade Wilson, ish - Relationship
Series: Vigilante Frat House [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2096028
Comments: 23
Kudos: 189





	1. Friends of Humanity

**Author's Note:**

> **GENERAL WARNINGS** violence being treated as a joke, bigoted beliefs, violence, guns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starting is simple. A political group that's attempting to strip mutants of their rights is a good starting point to strike the fear in the hearts of dickwaffles. Or so Wade says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **WARNINGS** same as the story summary

“Hey itsy bitsy.”

Peter looked up from his project.

“Wanna terrorize a fuck-ton of bigots?” Wade asked.

Peter narrowed his eyes. “What kind of bigots?”

“Anti-mutants.”

Peter felt his face light up. “Of course! What kind?”

“I’m thinking the Friends of Humanity. Thoughts?”

“Sounds good!” Peter got up. “What are you thinking we do?”

“You know the Ring?”

“The one with the girl crawling out of the TVs?”

Wade grinned. “Wanna recreate her look?”

“Fuck yeah.” Peter pulled out his loom. “Let me make myself a dress.”

~~~

It took a week, but they had their gear together.

For Peter, it was a shitty party city wig that Wade and Peter kicked around in an alley, a remarkably well-made dress that they wadded up and  _ also _ kicked around in an alley, a bluetooth speaker, and some pantyhose that they cut so it would cover his face, making him look like a knockoff slenderman.

“Your creepily long fingers are going to make it even better!” Wade sang. “I can’t  _ wait _ !”

For Wade, they had his suit, a knife, and a video for Peter’s speaker.

It was gotime.

~~~

Let it be known, due to the scar tissue in Wade’s vocal chords, when he wasn’t screaming like a child, his voice was terrifyingly deep. Like, makes-Frank-Castle-sound-like-microphone-feedback deep. Peter thought it was  _ hilarious _ .

So, having that voice read out a google translated version of the  _ Navy SEAL copypasta  _ in  _ Latin _ was going to be amazing.

He told Wade as much. Wade threw a knife at him.

~~~

They snuck inside in the evening, and Deadpool made a beeline for the electrical box. He whipped out his phone, before stabbing the fuck out of the electrical box.

“Why not just, like, turn it off?”

“This will make them have to replace it.”

“Fair enough.

Peter watched the lights go out, and then crawled out on the ceiling. He turned on the speaker.

“Quid in irrumabo iustus fucking tu de me dicis, non parum canis!” The speaker rang out. Peter ran towards the first person he saw.

Graydon Creed.

The chucklefucks’ leader.

Peter smirked, and sprinted towards the guy.

He shrieked,  _ loudly _ , and threw a book at him. Peter dodged it easily. He continued to chase the man around the facility.

Normally, he’d feel bad, but these people were advocating for people like him to be locked up or killed, so his sympathy was severely limited.

“-pone cor meum fucking verba. Vos can adepto vestri puto stercore ad me dicens evacuandam de Internet? Atqui putate: fututor. Contactus network of secretum meum mihi loqui sicut et nos exploratores...” The speaker continued

Even more so when they started shooting at him.

Peter booked it out of there at that point, picking up Deadpool along the way, who only hit him once (new record!) when they got the fuck out of there.

~~~

“Dude, we should totally do that again.” Wade finally wheezed out.

“I think this beats out any other summer plans I had.”

“ _ Hello _ Summer!” Wade sang.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes i put the navy seal copypasta in google translate
> 
> i regret nothing


	2. Unnamed group of protesters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter's new speed-roomba prototype is used for nefarious reasons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **WARNINGS:** Wade-isms, threats of violence, implied threats of violence against a minor, mass (minor) injury, violence being treated as a joke/entertainment, there is a dildo that is featured heavily in the beginning but it's not used for its intended purpose

“How’s your roomba coming along?”

Peter put down the aforementioned roomba. “Why do you ask?”

“I want to break some bigoted ankles.” Wade pointed to the roomba. “And that roomba is going to do it for me.”

“I don't want it to hurt people.”

“Even if they’re assholes camping out outside of a daycare to attack a kid when their parents go to pick them up because they’re a mutant?”

“ _ What _ ?!”

“You know, if you would leave your engineering hovel for a second and read the news, you wouldn't be so confused.”

“You sound like a concerned parent trying to get their kid outside.”

Wade screamed in agony. “Ew! What the fuck webs! You wound me!”

Fuck this. “Is this going to be another one of our ‘terrorize bigots’ moments?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely!” Wade crowed. “And we’re gonna have fun with it!”

Peter sighed. “Fine. It’s fast and heavy enough to bruise people, probably would last 15 minutes in an angry crowd.”

“It looks a little... blank.” Wade studied it for a minute. “Would you be upset if I glued the merch dildo to it?”

“Grab the dick, I’ll get the glue.” 

Wade patted Peter’s head. “You are the best friend anyone could ever ask for.”

Peter flipped him off. “I flipped you off!” He announced.

This was a  _ good  _ prototype.

Wade made a triumphant noise from the other room. He tried sprinting back into Peter’s room, but missed, breaking a hole in the wall.

Peter lost it.

After finally figuring out how to calm down, Peter stared at the hole.

_ It would be really funny if the final model could break through walls. _

“Huh.”

“Huh what?”

“Nothing.”

“Suit yourself.”

“We should weaponize it in some way, it would hit people’s shoes before-” Peter grabbed a ruler.

“How are you going to attach that?” Peter grabbed a roll of his modified duct tape. “Good kid.”

Peter duct taped the ruler onto the roomba.

Peter held out his hand. “Dick.”

“Here you go!” Wade sing-songed, placing the dildo in his hand.

“You don’t have to tell me. Just put it in my hand.” Peter measured the diameter of the base. Quick-Cure glue would work for this, right? Just a mob of anti-mutants. None of them would be superhuman, presumably.

12.7 centimeters. Which would mean, for ideal coverage he’d have to-

“Why not just stick the glue on the dick first, smash it down, see where it lands, and then put more glue on the dildo  _ and _ the roomba?”

“I don’t know.”

Wade slapped him lightly. “Up and at ‘em, Itsy Bitsy. We’ve got places to be.”

“I’m making this as fast as I can!”

Wade poked his cheek. “Go faster then!”

Peter slammed his hands down on the table. “Then get out!”

“Make me!”

Peter grabbed Wade, and underhanded him out of the window.

Blissful peace.

~~~

It didn’t last.

Peter knew it wouldn’t last, and yet here he was, being disappointed when, fifteen minutes later, Wade came bounding back into his room, arm bent at an unnatural angle.

He would’ve come quicker but there was a cute raccoon in the alley he landed in.

“Please don’t get rabies again.”

~~~

“I dub thee Anklebiter!” Wade yelled, holding the roomba over the street below.

“Are we seriously going to call it that?”

“She’s got a goddamn fucking  _ Stark _ AI imported onto her. She needs a name!”

“But does it have to be Anklebiter?”

“Got anything better?”

“...Fair enough.”

~~~

“Fuck!” Wade yelled.

“What?”

“This is a daycare!” Wade gestured towards Anklebiter, who had been placed in an alley and was being prepared for release into the wild. “We can’t have a dildo in front of a daycare!”

“Shit!” Peter grabbed her just in time, and ripped the dick off. “Emergency penectomy, sorry ma’am.”

Wade winced in sympathy.

Peter still had a Deadpool branded dildo in his hands. He looked up at Wade. “Um.”

Wade grabbed the dildo, and pitched it further down the alley. “Problem solved.”

~~~

“Wade, is this how you felt when I called Wilson Fisk ‘sweetcheeks’?” Peter asked.

“What?”

“Like, pride? But also horror.” Peter watched a red-faced woman go down with a scream, the black blur of Anklebiter zooming away to find a new target. “Like, understandably, Anklebiter is using an offshoot of Karen’s original programming to control herself, so it’s technically Stark’s creation. But I trained this bloodlust in her, so it’s my fault she is who she is. It’s like, he’s her biological father but I’m her  _ dad _ .”

“That makes no sense.”

“She’s a roomba with an overwhelming thirst for blood, nothing makes sense.”

Peter had managed to train her to head straight for the bony part in people’s ankles, making her a painful yet harmless long-term deterrent towards anti-mutants.

They shared their bag of popcorn for a bit, watching the chaos below, before Wade stiffened.

He shielded his eyes, looking at the screaming crowd. “NO!”

“What is it?!” Peter got up.

“THEY KILLED MY GRANDDAUGHTER!” Wade sobbed.

“WHAT?!”

“Look!” Wade yelled, pointing at a group of bigots. One of them had a baseball bat, which, considering where they were, was all sorts of fucked up. They were hitting something.

They were-

“NO!” Peter screamed. He swung up, and webbed up the baseball bat. “You assholes!”

They yelled some obscenities at him. Lots. Of. Obscenities.

Perks of being one of the most well-known “mutants” in New York.

Didn’t matter that Peter was actually a mutate.

“We were just here out of concern for the children.” Peter notified the crowd calmly. “Particularly out of concern for the  _ child _ you are  _ harassing _ .”

Peter held up the baseball bat. He felt his calm demeanor slipping. “What were you guys going to do with this?! Huh?”

They shifted nervously.

“Now, I’m offended enough on this kid’s behalf that you’re waiting  _ outside _ of their  _ daycare _ as protest for them  _ being there _ , that’s offensive enough as-is. But no! You guys were going to try to hurt them, weren’t you? You were waiting for them to come out so you could hit them! How is that legal?!”

Peter paused to try to calm himself down.

“Now, there’s  _ a lot _ of differences in opinion between us vigilantes, but the  _ one thing _ we  _ all _ can agree on, is that  _ no one _ hurts children.” Peter snapped the bat in half one-handed. “You guys are lucky I’m here, otherwise Deadpool over there,” Wade waved obnoxiously from their rooftop perch, “Would have done a lot more than watch my roomba hit you in the ankles. And I  _ promise _ you, if you hurt  _ anyone _ in there, I’m going to leave  _ right now _ , and let DP do what he wants.  _ Capisce _ ?”

The ones still standing nodded.

“ _ And _ I’m pissed about what you did to Anklebiter. She deserves better.” Peter scooped up the mangled carcass of his child. 

“Get the fuck out of here, jackasses!” Wade yelled.

They didn’t need to be told twice.

~~~

Peter held up the final product. “Alright, Jane, let’s see what you can do.”

“Fuck off!” The roomba responded.

Wade cooed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> normally i try to give myself two days so i can edit the second day but i like this as is so
> 
> also jane the roomba may return


	3. Unnamed Group #2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter gets inventive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **WARNINGS:** discussions of weapons used in war

Wade snapped his fingers. “Glitter grenades.”

“What?”

“I was thinking about how we could harass another anti-mutant group, thus, glitter grenades.”

“Isn’t that just a glitter bomb?”

“Nah, glitter bombs you detonate from a distance, glitter  _ grenades  _ you throw.”

“Huh.” Peter considered it. “I’m gonna go get more shit.”

“Dumpster diving?”

“Yeah.”

“So does that mean you’re down?”

“ _ Dude _ , I’m bored out of my mind and this won’t kill anyone, of course I’m down.”

~~~

“What the  _ fuck _ did you guys do?” Eddie yelled.

“Um.” Peter wrung his hands. “It’s biodegradable?”

Wade nodded.

**“Why?”** Venom asked.

Peter shrugged, glitter cascading from his hair and shoulders. “Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

~~~

“Good morning!” Wade sang.

“Wade, it’s 4:50 in the fucking morning.” Peter ground out from his perch. He  _ was _ sleeping.

Or what could be considered sleep for Peter nowadays.

Wade shushed him. “Don’t swear in front of the babies.”

Peter shot “awake”. “Um-”

Wade cooed at a glitter grenade. “Hello friend!”

Peter hated his life right then.

“You are going to be doing something  _ big _ for me, ok?” Wade held up the grenade. “I am going to be  _ so _ proud of you.”

“Are you  _ talking  _ to the grenades?!”

“Yes! They need pep talks too!”

~~~

“BOMBS AWAY!” Wade yelled, throwing a glitter grenade at the window. It didn’t break, because of fucking  _ course _ . “FUCK!”

“I told you these fuckers use weird shit.” Peter rolled his eyes. “Let me do it.” Peter grabbed the next glitter grenade, pulled the pin, and wound his arm up. He’d figured softball-style would be the best course of action, since most of what he found showed it broke things the best.

It obliterated the glass.

Wade whooped. “Let’s fucking  _ go _ itsy bitsy!” He rolled down into the street.

“You need help getting up?”

“Yeah.”

“Right. I’ll pick you up.” Peter slung Wade over his shoulders, using one of them to hold Wade’s calf.

“Is it harder to do this while you’re carrying someone?” Wade asked, cradling the bag of grenades.

“Only because you’re taking up a free hand.”

“ _ Nice _ man.”

~~~

“We’re never going to get this out.” Peter held up his glittery suit.

“And you expected anything different?” Wade asked.

“Fair enough.” Peter shook it, watching the glitter fall. It was cool. Fun to watch. Peter shook the suit again.

“I’ll just leave you to that itsy bitsy. Don’t be too loud.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this was so short my brain would Not Let Me Vibe
> 
> NEXT CHAPTER IS COMING ALONG NICELY THE BRAIN IS DOING GOOD, PERHAPS I WILL TREAT MYSELF TO THE SPECIAL CHEERIOS FOR BREAKFAST


	4. Friends of Humanity (again)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're turning the freaking frogs gay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **WARNINGS:** mentions of alt-right conspiracy theories, ableist language (that gets called out), major character injury, injury of a minor (spider-man), character treating said injury like a joke, bad medical practices, mentions of previous character deaths, mental illness being treated as a joke (by the sufferers), blood.
> 
> I'M ALIVE AND I LIKED THIS IDEA SO I WROTE A LOT YEAH OK BYE

Wade popped his head in Peter’s room, “So.”

“So?”

“You busy tonight?”

“What for?”

“I got a bunch of magenta food colouring, do we want to take advantage of mass hysteria?”

“I- What?”

“There’s a new conspiracy theory going around that there are so many enhanced people in New York because they dump shit in the water. Do we want to do that to the Friends of Humanity’s water tower?”

“Sure?”

“Great! Dopinder’ll pick us up at 8:00.”

~~~

“Where to, Mr Pool, and uh, Spider-Man?”

Wade wriggled his way into the front seat, “Friends of Humanity. The bottle the kid’s carrying isn’t blood for once, feel free to obey traffic laws.”

“Ok.”

They sat in awkward silence. 

“So, how are things with Gita?”

“Bandhu is gone, but she is in grief.” Dopinder sighed “Beautiful Gita.”

Peter lifted his mask slightly to put his headphones in.

“Damn, I was hoping for Spider-Man to be something other than white.” Dopinder froze, “Um, no offense, Mr Man.”

“There’s a couple of non-white spider-people,” Peter paused his music,

“I thought there was only one?”

“In this universe,” Peter unpaused his music. 

Dopinder gave Wade a panicked look.

“He’s always like that,” Peter heard Wade assure him through his headphones, “The less you think about it, the better.”

“I’ll take your word for it, Mr Pool.”

~~~

“I’ll call you, stay available.” Wade blew Dopinder a kiss, who mimed catching it.

Peter pretended to gag.

“Oh, don't be such a baby,” Wade took the food coloring, “I could be doing a _lot_ worse.”

“Yeah, but you wouldn't around a minor.”

“Ok, Mr Too-Smart-For-His-Own-Good, you gonna read my palm next or something?”

Peter gave Wade a confused look. 

Wade shrugged back. “Joke kinda left my brain as I was saying it.”

“Fair enough,” Peter straightened up, hearing sirens in the distance. “Mr Too-Smart-For-His-Own-Good is about to take that food coloring and pour it into the water tower himself, because I think some shitlord called the cops on us.”

“This shit’s for me to drink. We’re just gonna mime dumping this shit in.”

“I- What?!”

Wade laughed. “Kidding. You go do your funky spider-y thing. I'm going to go find a normal person way up.”

“We don't have time for that,” Peter grabbed Wade like a cat, pulling the food coloring out of his hands, “safe travels.”

Spider-Man throwing Deadpool up a building was apparently interesting to tourists. Peter succeeded in not scoffing at their “I love New York” shirts, but it was tough. He let them take their videos though.

“Was that _really_ necessary?” Wade asked, once Peter crawled his way up.

“We're on a time crunch, Deadpool, desperate times.”

“Fair enough,” Wade made grabby hands for the food coloring, “now give me the goods.”

“I think I’ll do the honors. They've been running ‘Spider-Man Quarter-Life Crisis’ stories about me, might as well give them some material,”

“Kid, you’re 16.”

“They don't know that,” Peter uncapped the bottle, and pulled some of his alcohol-soluble film over it “Alright, since I don't want to contaminate this, I’m gonna flip this upside down, use it to smash a small hole into the water tower, then I’m going to seal it with the antibacterial webbing, the alcohol in this food coloring’s gonna dissolve this film, and then we’re going to profit,”

“It’s not fair that you have a better plan for _my_ idea than _me_ ,”

“It was better than talking to someone I don't know in a taxi,”

“You talk to people you don't know all the fucking time as Spider-Man,”

“Yeah, well I don't have to ever see them again, hopefully. Plus the mask, like, helps,”

Wade laughed. “Sometimes I forget that underneath all of that dread-childiness you’re still a teenager with crippling social anxiety.”

Peter grimaced at the language. “Crippling’s an ableist word, man, Double-D would kick your ass. Plus, it’s pretty shitty to say,”

“Shit, right, sorry,” Wade gestured grandly towards the water tower, “Do you wish to do the honors, Mr Man?”

“I literally just said I would be the one doing this.”

“I know, dipshit, this is me telling you to get your ass into gear.”

“I would if you _shut the fuck up_!” Wade slapped his hands over his mouth, “Thank you.”

Wade started humming along to one of his songs. That was the best Peter could get.

Peter slammed the bottle into the water tower, immediately coating it with antibacterial webs.

When he was finished, he noticed Wade shaking with silent laughter.

“Um?”

Wade started laughing full-on. He held his finger out as a “wait” gesture, and pulled out his phone from who knows where (Peter had a suspicion and it _wasn’t_ a good place), typing into it.

Wade didn’t even have to get past the thumbnail.

Peter understood.

Peter _understood_.

Peter almost fell off the roof laughing.

“We’re-” Peter wheezed. “We’re turning the freaking frogs gay.”

Wade somehow managed to pull himself together enough to open up YouTube and pull out one of the remixes, which sent them on another round of laughter.

That’s when the NYPD showed up.

~~~

“We are _so_ fucked.” Wade announced. They were surrounded by cops at that point, Alex Jones screaming about gay frogs in the background.

“No we’re not!” Peter yelled, picking Wade up, who screamed. Loudly. He dashed for the edge of the roof, knocking over cops like bowling pins, and threw Wade as hard as he could.

He knew it wouldn’t kill him, despite all the screaming.

Peter’s head buzzed, and he dropped to the ground just as a hailstorm of bullets whizzed over him. Thank _you_ Peter-Tingle.

He really needed to come up with a better name for that. What did Peter B call it? Spidey-Sense, yeah, that’s a good word.

His safety wouldn’t last long though, so he launched himself off the roof, only taking a couple of bullets in the legs. Tough luck, assholes, Peter didn’t need his legs to swing.

Peter _really_ didn’t have the pain tolerance to get back to the Casa before getting those bullets out, but, luckily, he had enough money _and_ pain tolerance to buy himself some Hao Rou orange chicken to get the chopsticks, because Peter was classy like that.

“Hey, Karen?”

“Yes?” Peter had managed to program his name out of Karen’s responses after Matt (very politely) notified him that whoever programmed his AI to say his name was a moron that forgot people with enhanced hearing or microphones exist.

“Can you please place an order at Hao Rou’s website for a large carton of orange chicken under the name Spidey?”

“Of course.”

Peter changed his course, only screaming a _little_ as the air whistled through his legs. Peter used to think that people were exaggerating how bad the NYPD’s aim was, but Peter knew _now_ that the only cops with good aim had an illegal side job, the real cops missed all the juicy bits, _always_. These ones didn't even hit a major artery.

Except Detective Mahoney. Peter held nothing but respect for a non-vigilante who dealt with Matt in Daredevil mode and survived with their mental health intact.

Hell, for _anyone_ to deal with Daredevil-Matt with their mental health intact. God knows Peter hadn’t.

Most notably illustrated by Peter going to a Chinese takeout spot to get chopsticks to pull bullets out of his legs, but hey, you don’t watch your uncle get murdered in front of you without at least a handful of issues.

 _Bad_ thoughts! Bad Peter! We live in a world of escapism here!

 _Only_ positivity.

Like Hao Rou!

Peter touched down, hissing in pain. He considered walking in on his hands, but he didn’t want to draw _too_ much attention to himself.

Just a cosplayer supporting a local business here, no violent vigilantes over here, no sir. He sat in one of their waiting room chairs, subtly webbing up his legs to avoid bleeding on their upholstery.

“I’ve got a large orange chicken for Spidey?” Peter’s favorite human, Jake, asked.

Jake was Peter’s favorite human because he gave him food and didn’t ask questions. Also, he was Peter’s age and pretty, which gave him bonus points.

Sadly, he was so, so, so very straight.

Wade called him the saddest baby gay in New York, but sent him to pick up the takeout every time Jake was on counter duty.

Peter had no idea why Wade knew when Jake would be working the counter, and he never wanted to ask. He suspected Wade had a secret romantic streak, even when said streak was trying to set up his tragically bisexual teammate and an unattainable straight guy.

Matt said Wade was projecting when he asked him about it, but Peter couldn’t get who Wade was projecting about out of Matt, so he was left to wallow in his misery alone.

Fucking lawyers, man.

Peter raised his hand, and limped over to the counter. Jake gave him a concerned look, because Jake was a good dude like that.

“I’m fine, just twisted my ankle falling down the stairs.” Peter lied, picking up the bag.

Jake raised a doubtful eyebrow. “I can see the bullet holes.”

Oh shit.

“No you can’t!” Peter said, like a _dumbass_.

Jake plastered on his customer service face, clearly trying his hardest not to laugh at Peter’s dumbassery.

Fucking asshole. Peter keeps this little part of the city safe and _this_ is the thanks he got?

“You’ve probably got, uh, other customers, man, have a nice day, dude!” Peter squeaked, and made a quick retreat.

He used the fire escapes to make it on the roof, before fishing out the chopsticks. That was why he got into that mess and had to talk to Jake in the first place.

God, ok, chopsticks, bullet wounds, yes.

~~~

Peter ate his orange chicken with triumph. “Listen, man, I’ve only got like, four issues, a _palmful_ of them. I’m good.”

“Peter, why is there _blood_ at the end of those chopsticks?” Wade asked.

“It’s ok, it’s just mine.”

“Kid, I don’t think there’s just a palmful over there.” Bucky noted from the couch.

“You put your arm in the dishwasher again, you don’t get to talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i did the comic sans trick and wrote 800 words in like, three hours (i also had slept like 13 hours the night before, bc go me), plus this idea seemed entertaining. I'm really actually proud of this chapter so like maybe others will be like this???? i'm letting myself ramble a bit more bc i imagine this idea of peter would too bc i have adhd and he has adhd and fun yay woo.
> 
> thank you so much for reading i love u guys
> 
> oh!!! also!!! hao rou is mandarin for "good meat" bc i speak (and read) a Not Insignificant amount of mandarin (i learned it in school) and i think im funny.
> 
> also the jake guy is 100% straight (not an "oh he's tooootally straight" nope he likes ladies and ladies only) i just wanted to make it more clear that peter Is Not Straight without writing a ship bc idk how to do that bc i am just a Small Ace/Aro.  
> however if i were to attempt to write a ship (with a lot of research) with Peter would we vibe for peterned, spideychelle or both (peter/ned AND peter/michelle but also ned & michelle bc healthy platonic relationships make me all gooey and happy)
> 
> (02/10/21) SOOOO i just kinda murdered my foot (jumping around because i was excited from comments bc i am apparently 8 years old again) which means i am Potentially Not Moving, so i'm gonna be writing shit on my phone, so i'm gonna maybe possibly have a ton of rough drafts for ur enjoyment when i can format them better on my computer again (by moving!!!!)
> 
> [GAY FROGS](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dvf6gz58xnI)


	5. Purifiers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fart spray, tiny robots, pizza and feels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **WARNINGS** violence being treated as a joke, references to terrorism (no specific attacks), brief references to past canonical sexual assaults, character behaving violently out of anger (not towards a person)

“Peter, Peter, Petey-Pete-” Wade poked Peter ‘awake’ with the (recently purchased) broom.

Peter jumped on his back.

Wade screamed, obviously, and threw Peter off. He slammed him into a wall with a loud  _ oof _ , leaving a significant dent.

So, a normal Monday.

“There’s a fuckton of Purifiers getting ready to go in front of Stark Tower tomorrow. They’re looking for Wanda Maximoff.” Wade announced, patting Peter’s head once.

Not going to be a normal Tuesday.

Peter swore.

Wade waggled his finger. “Tsk tsk, itsy bitsy, watch your fucking language, we have shit to do, and swearing isn’t it.”

Peter bopped what was left of his nose, breaking it.

He hoped it healed wrong.

Wade slung his arm over Peter’s shoulder, “You, me, a hundred tiny robots, a hundred bottles of liquid ass, and some bigots. Make it a platonic date afternoon.”

“It’s, like,” Peter checked his phone, “Six pm?”

“You need time to make the bots.”

“I’m gonna need a lot longer than that.”

“Phone your nerd friends. Dahlia and Jitsee?”

No real names for Mr. Wilson. No sir.

“The G’s hard.”

“Whatever.” Wade waved a hand. “Call your friends. I’ll clear out, and you guys can make it a cute nerd date. Maybe give them a little kiss each time they finish a bot.”

“I don’t like them like that!”

Wade gave him a doubtful look, “Polyamory exists.”

“Yeah, I know, but I don’t like either of them like-”

“If you say so!” Wade sang, “There’s a whole bucket of parts for you to play with in the living room, I’ll go dumpster diving for more if you so please.”

“Thanks?”

Wade ruffled his hair obnoxiously. “Wear protection!”

“WADE!”

“Bye!” Wade slammed the door.

“Great.” Peter sighed.

**bee bee boo boo**

I am fully aware of the time

BUT

**_Darth Nedius the Wise_ ** **_  
_ ** uh oh

**_your very own michelle jones_ **   
i am assuming you are going to ask us to do something ridiculous that’ll probably take us all night?

**_Darth Nedius the Wise_ **   
so????? it’ll peobably be fun

WAIT do you want us to help you with eight legged stuff????

**_your very own michelle jones_ ** **_  
_ ** just say it dude

Ned

While I do appreciate your discretion

A cop would know excavating what you mean if they searched any one of our phones

**_Darth Nedius the Wise_ **   
excavating

**_your very own michelle jones_ **

excavating   
  


*exactly

Shut the fuck up

I hate you both

**_your very own michelle jones_ ** **_  
_ ** but also how do you know that they’ll know??? hm???

**_Darth Nedius the Wise_ ** **_  
_ ** dont you know a lawyer now?

I know TWO lawyers

Checkmate, Miss Jones

**_your very own michelle jones_ ** **_  
_ ** woah

look at mr privileged here

moving up in life

They work pro bono like 50% of the time

**_your very own michelle jones_ ** **_  
_ ** nelson murdock and page?

Woah

Did you manifest as a mind reader sometime this summer?

**_your very own michelle jones_ ** **_  
_ ** no just they’re the only law firm that works that much pro bono

tell them i admire their work

Will do!

**_Darth Nedius the Wise_ ** **_  
_ ** !!

amazing

I was texting you guys for SOME reason

I forgot again

**_your very own michelle jones_ ** **_  
_ ** i think your were trying to invite us over

RIGHT

Wanna put together a hundred robots?

I think that’s what my friend wants

I made plans already

**_Darth Nedius the Wise_ **   
are your rokmmates there?

No one’s on a business trip and the other is I think out harassing his friends

**_your very own michelle jones_ **   
i am assuming he does that al lot

Yes

Unfortunately, I am considered one of them

**_Darth Nedius the Wise_ ** **_  
_ ** may you fiveever rest in peace

R.I.P. me

Anyways can you come over?

It might take all night

**_Darth Nedius the Wise_ **   
dude it’s fine

summer

i woke up like 3 hours ago

OH also I will provide food

Pizza????

**_your very own michelle jones_ ** **_  
_ ** pepperoni

**_Darth Nedius the Wise_ **   
cheese

Is half a pizza enough for you guys?

I don’t know how much normal humans eat anymore

**_your very own michelle jones_ ** **_  
_ ** tragic

but also yes

**_Darth Nedius the Wise_ **   
wemll be working for a while so proabby suouod het more food

get four, leftovers are a thing

You are a smart person

I ordered the pizza before I forgot

One pepperoni, one cheese, two every topping on the menu because I am disgusting and need the calories

Anyways pizza comes at 6:40

**_your very own michelle jones_ ** **_  
_ ** sister says yes

**_Darth Nedius the Wise_ ** **_  
_ ** my mom says yes

!!!

Ok. Peter had gotten help. Now, to make it so him saying he had plans was not a lie.

2248 Spider-Man, master of planning.

The scraps Wade got were good.  _ Very _ good. Clearly from a dumpster, but like,  _ quality _ . Peter could work with those.

Bam.

Peter wasn’t a genius for fucking nothing.

This looked like a tank-top sort of night, really. Minimal soldering, and Peter would heal with what he did. Tank tops were nice. He couldn’t wear them too often, even though he  _ really _ wanted to.

“Sun’s out, guns out.” Peter laughed.

Peter was pulling the tank top, a tasteful black on when Ned texted him.

**bee bee boo boo**

**_Darth Nedius the Wise_ **

Here

Door’s unlocked, come in

“Hey, man, the parts are in the living room.” Peter yelled from his room, “I’m fixing my photocopier so it actually photocopies again.”

“What did it do before?”

“Temporarily blind people.”

“ _ Awesome _ .”

Peter came out of his room, because, like, that was polite. Greeting guests was a thing normal people did.

_ Fuck  _ Peter needed to hang out with other vigilantes less. 

Ned’s eyes widened when Peter entered, zeroing in on his arms.

“Is there, like, something on my arms?”

“No?” Ned squeaked out.

Peter narrowed his eyes. “I don’t trust you. I’m checking.”

“Ok.” Ned squeaked out.

Was he ok?

Peter checked his shoulders.

And his back.

And his arms.

Just the Lichtenberg figure.

Huh. Maybe it was that.

“You know about the burn, right? Is that what you're looking at?”

“Not looking at that.” Ned shook his head, like he was trying to shake a thought out of his head. “Makes you look badass, like I said last time.”

“Oh. Right.” Peter nodded. “Forgot about that.”

Ned snorted. “Of course you did.”

“So,” Peter shuffled his feet, “should we wait for MJ?”

“Yeah! We should!” Ned turned abruptly to the parts. “Can you get me a copy of the plans?”

“Sure.” Peter shoved the plans in the copy machine. “If this piece of shit will-”

The front door slammed open.

“Bow down mortals, your queen has arrived!” MJ announced, stomping through the front room.

MJ froze when she was in the doorway, staring at Peter.

“Seriously, is there a bloodstain on this shirt? Should I change?”

“No!” Her and Ned yelled, before looking at each other.

“Ok then.” Peter turned back to his photocopier, which was making weird noises. “Shut up.”

“Don’t break it.”

“I won’t, MJ, I pro-”  _ Failure to Scan _ “PIECE OF SHIT!” Peter banged his fist on the photocopier, because impulse control was for losers.

It started smoking.

MJ pulled the plug before it could start any fires, because MJ was smart. “Remind me to never let you near any electronics I care about.”

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

“I’m sorry.”

“Dude, don’t look so freaked out. I meant that as a joke.”

Ned nodded. “We can just share. It’ll be cool.”

~~~

“How do you plan on getting the pizzas up there?” MJ asked, shielding her eyes from the sun.

“Um.” Peter took the boxes in his hands, taking a few aborted steps forward on the fire escape. “Fuck it.”

He jumped, keeping the pizza boxes level.

“Wow.” MJ sounded surprised. “Um. That’d work.”

“ _ Dude _ , I didn’t know you could jump that high.” Ned practically vibrated with excitement. “How high can you jump?”

“I don’t know?” Peter put the boxes down. “Hand me the lights.”

Ned handed him the lights.

“Can you, like, try?” Ned asked.

“Sure.” Peter threw the extension cord’s plug over the wall. “Oh my god, this is going to be a huge fire hazard.”

MJ wiggled the two fire extinguishers. “Here’s your fire safety. Do your little dance now, jester.”

“Fine.” Peter jumped as high as he could.

Which was pretty fucking high oh fucking shit fuck fuck-

“You’re a moron.” MJ told him, when he emerged from his small crater.

He was probably exaggerating, but he  _ swore _ that part of the roof was permanently going to be lower.

“You told me to do it too!”

“Or did I?” MJ pushed a light up.

“That was  _ awesome _ . Except for the part where you got hurt. That wasn’t awesome.”

“Really, Ned, I’m fine.” Peter dusted himself off. “Do we have everything?”

“We’re going to need a table, too.”

“...Right. I’ll ask my roommates if we have a folding table.”

**DP**

Hey do we have a folding table

What kind of bougie-ass place do you think we have?

our only table IS a folding table

you guys just never fucking use it

Oh yeah

fucking couch eaters

How is that an insult?

ask no questions, get told no lies itsy bitsy

????????

“So I might have forgotten that the only table we have is a folding table.”

“ _ Peter _ .”

“Hey, at least we have one!”

~~~

Peter noticed Ned’s hands were shaking. 

“You good?”

“Yep.” Ned put down his soldering iron.

“Y-y-your hands are shaking.” MJ pointed out.

“Wait, shit, are you guys, like, cold?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Um.” Peter wrung his hands. “Do you guys want, like, jackets?”

“ _ Please _ .” MJ shook out her hands.

“Shit.” Peter shuffled over to the edge of the roof. “I’m sorry, I forget you are squishy humans who do not respond well to low temperatures.”

MJ made a “hurry up” gesture.

“I’m going! I’m going!”

~~~

They started whispering as soon as Peter got off the roof. “This is  _ solidarity _ , Ned.  _ Solidarity _ .”

“Of course.”

Peter covered his ears at that point. If they didn’t want to talk about it around him, there was probably a reason for it.

Even if his brain was screaming at him that they were mad at him and wanted to shoot the shit, they gave him no other indication that they thought that, so Peter tried his resolute best to ignore it.

_ Totally planning out a birthday present _ . Peter told himself, opening the window.

If only to get his brain to shut up.

~~~

“This jacket is too short.” MJ pointed out.

“We can’t all be 5’10, MJ. I got you my longest jacket.” Peter paused. “Will you be cold? I can get you like a blanket or something to wrap around the bottom if it helps.”

“Not really, I’m good.”

Peter gave her a once-over. “Your cheeks still look a little red. Will you be ok?”

“ _ Yes _ , Peter. I’ll be fine.” MJ said, a little too quickly.

“Ok.” Peter nodded. “That’s good. You warm too, Ned?”

“Totally fine.” Ned squeaked out.

“You don’t sound OK. Are you sure?”

MJ gave Ned a wide-eyed look.

“N-nope! All good!”

Peter narrowed his eyes. “You sound like you’re lying.”

“I-”

Peter shoved his hand up Ned’s sleeve, making him squeal. His arm was warm. Good. Peter nodded in satisfaction. “Ok, I believe you.”

“Uh-”

“If you die of hypothermia because you’re too proud to admit you’re cold, I’ll make sad faces at your corpse.” Peter nodded, before noticing his hand was still in Ned’s sleeve. “Shit. Sorry.”

“It’s ok.”

“Um.” Peter handed him his soldering tools. “Here.”

~~~

“Our blanket pile is as glorious as our contributions to anti-anti-mutant warfare.” Ned yelled, brandishing a pillow.

“I can’t believe we finished those.” Peter announced.

“It’s a win for the bis.” Ned nodded.

Wait,  _ what _ ?

“Ned-”

“Peter’s bi, you’re bi, and I’m bi too. This is obviously the reason why we were able to make a hundred tiny robots of benevolent terrorism in four hours, and no, I will not be taking any criticism on this.”

“I wouldn’t call it terrorism, per se.” Peter pointed out.

“Yeah, I guess.” Ned shrugged. “Valid criticism.”

“Dude. I can’t believe I thought you were straight, honestly.”

“Hindsight is 20/20.” MJ noted cryptically, before flopping on top of Peter. “Accept your role as my pillow, little man.”

“I’m not little!”

“You’re 5’5 on a good day with big shoes, Peter.” Ned noted, fake sadness in his voice. “Just admit, you are tiny.”

Peter glowered at them, but allowed MJ to lie on his chest. Because he was being a bro, and bros are pillows for other bros.

“My lap’s still free if you want it.” Peter offered to Ned. “If there’s room, because  _ apparently _ I’m too small.”

MJ wiggled her head around Peter’s chest. “Get on the Peter pillow train, Ned. He’s warm.”

“You guys aren’t going to, like, freak out about this? The bi thing?”

“You were obvious about it.” MJ told him.

“For the record, I had no idea.” Peter patted his head. “I got your back in terms of obliviousness, man.”

“Yeah, right. Right.”

“Also, random thought, but like, sorry for shoving my hand in your sleeve. That probably wasn’t nice.”

“Not really, no.” Ned told him, adjusting his head.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t do it again.”

“I’ll try, but no promises.”

~~~

Peter was a literal superhero. Full-on fought bad guys, had a mask and a name, all that jazz, super fucking hero. Or menace, apparently. Probably not a superhero. A vigilante, then. A strong one, at that. He’d literally caught a car yesterday.

So  _ why  _ was it so hard for him to peel MJ’s hand off from where she had grabbed his shirt?

Yeah, maybe he should have moved slower when he was trying to get out from under her and Ned, but he wasn’t expecting her to  _ grab _ him. Especially in her sleep.

She shifted her head again, her hair spilled out over Peter’s arms. She looked peaceful, and-

Nope.

Peter was  _ not _ thinking about that. They were just bros who let bros sleep on top of each other.

Matt always said that the idea that people who had bad thoughts would act on them was a Capitalist Catholic ploy to scare more people into going to church, and that policing your “thought crimes” was not only futile but stressful and a “dumbshit idea”.

He had Opinions about that sort of thing, and Peter usually agreed with them. But Peter was  _ really  _ tempted to start policing his thoughts right about now.

MJ  _ did  _ look pretty, though. Peter would have to be deluding himself to not admit that.

But what would he do about that?

Try to get himself some fucking food because he was  _ hungry _ and ignoring any heterosexual feelings he had for his friend.

Obviously.

In theory, Peter was strong enough to drag the carpet they were laying on to the cabinet, and MJ and Ned were both heavy enough sleepers Peter could crunch on some bugs without waking either of them up.

In practice, that was also true. Nice.

Unfortunately, with food in his hands, Peter couldn’t distract himself with thinking about the acquisition of food.

Peter crunched on a handful of crickets.

He was definitely not going to confess, that was a fact. Best-case-scenario, he and MJ start dating, and that might make Ned feel like he’s third-wheeling, which is a  _ very bad _ thing.

Not that platonic relationships came second to romantic and/or sexual relationships,  _ that _ had been grilled into him, thanks Danny, but, like, what if it  _ did _ . Or it made Ned  _ feel  _ like it did. Peter didn’t want to choose.

So, no confession. Yes.

Another handful of crickets.

But like? What  _ was _ Peter like around his crushes?

He was awkward around Liz, yeah, but, like, he was awkward around everyone he didn’t know. What would he be like around MJ now that he knew he liked her?

Peter wasn’t about to figure that out. He was repressing that shit.

But he had to be polite about it.

~~~

“Cereal, eat it, out of my apartment, check the news.” Peter handed them each a bowl of cereal. “I've got shit to do and you’ve got identities to protect from potentially dangerous roommates. Get out.”

~~~

“You and your engineering elves really delivered, kid.” Wade told him, admiring one of the bots. “So, how do they work?”

“We need to get them batteries, but, like, beyond that, just put the batteries in and release. They only spray forward, and they walk forward like wind-up toys.”

“You. I’m keeping you.” Wade patted Peter’s head. “Suit up, we’ve got a store to go to.”

“Why can’t we just go in plainclothes?”

“Because a 6’2” heavily scarred Canadian and some 5’4” unusually buff kid coming through to buy a fuck-ton of batteries minutes before Deadpool and Spider-Man send out a hundred battery operated robots to perform psychological warfare on some shitlords is slightly suspicious?”

“Fair enough.”

~~~

Peter was  _ fucked _ .

“Oh god.”

Wade started humming “My Heart Will Go On”.

“The fuck?!”

“You cannot comprehend the inner workings of my mind.” Wade stopped humming. “So, what’s the oh god for?”

Peter made an anguished noise in the back of his throat, which matched the horrified yell of one of the Purifiers below.

“Is that a cry of physical pain or emotional pain? It’s a little hard to tell with you.”

Peter flopped onto his back.

“Yep, that is an emotional flounce worthy of the best of teenage tantrums. NTW truly has nothing on you.” 

“Stupid fucking Spidey luck.”

“While I am  _ very  _ proud of the drama you've got going on here, I need your tiny self for my plans of world domination. So, if you could not do that, that’d be great.” Wade mimed holding a clipboard. “Care to talk about your woes to Doctor Deadpool?”

“Fuck off.”

This roof was a nice roof. Great roof for a crisis. Peter would have to come back to this roof again.

“I’m guessing it has to do with the fact your engineering elves stayed the night?”

“N-no!”

Wade clapped his hands together. “Did you guys finally figure your shit out?”

“If you mean noticing they’re pretty in more than an offhand way? Yeah.”

“That’s a start.”

“I’m fucked.”

“Yeah, you are.” Wade paused. “You gonna do anything about it?”

“Panic and repress?”

“Good idea.”

“You… Agree?”

“Maybe I do.” Wade wiggled his fingers. “Maybe I don't.”

“That makes no sense.”

“I make no sense.”

“Fine.” Peter sat up, noticing that all of the Purifiers were gone. “If you're going to pretend to be my shrink for the hour, can I ask you for advice? Without you being an ass?”

“Aw,” Wade put his face in his hands. “I get to be the mentor figure I never should be.”

“Desperate times, desperate measures.”

“Doctor Deadpool, right here. Listening. Relax, lie down, pretend you’re in one of those chaises.”

“Ugh.” Peter lied down. “So, like, I want to date my crush, right?”

“Which one?”

“Um. Yes? Both of them if they want?”

“Ok. Do they hang out regularly?”

“Yeah. Yeah. We’re like, best friends.”

“Do they get along when they're not hanging out with you too?”

“I think so? They play Overwatch together, like, all the time.”

“Good. That’s good.” Wade pulled out a swiss army knife, and began fiddling with the tools. “Do you think, if things went wrong, would they have a support system that isn't you or the other one? Preferably someone who is completely removed from any potential situations?”

Peter thought about it. Their families were  _ super  _ nice to them, and would totally have their back. “Yes. Their families are really great.”

“If something went wrong, you’d have a support system that isn't them?”

“Yeah. You guys.”

Wade shoved his hand under his mask briefly. His voice wavered for a moment. If Peter didn't know better, he’d think Wade was wiping away tears. “Um. Good. If things go wrong, I don't want some kid without support.”

“Right.”

“So, I think, if they both liked you, it wouldn't be an  _ awful _ idea to date them.”

“Not an awful idea. Wow. That fills me with confidence.”

“I’m just saying it like it is.” Wade shrugged. “Do you have a game plan?”

“Not really?”

“First thing you should do is gauge interest.” Wade ticked off one of his fingers. “Do you know if they like dudes?”

“Yeah. Definitely.”

“Part A of step one done. Congrats.”

Peter waved his hands. “Yay.”

“The amount of disrespect you are leveling towards your therapist is astounding.”

“Fuck off.”

Wade mimed pushing up glasses. “Do you think they might like you?”

“Maybe? I don't think they do, but I know sometimes I get all-” Peter waved his hand around. “You know.”

Wade jumped up. “God DAMMIT!”

“What? Did I-”

“No no no, not you, I’m just pissed as hell I didn't offer Nessa my hand in marriage.”

“But you guys were engaged already?”

“I meant my actual hand.” Peter snorted before he could stop himself. “See? It’s funny!”

“It is.” Peter conceded.

Wade hummed, sitting back down. “So, you don't think they like you, but you’re not sure how much of it is them not liking you and how much of it is your asshole brain shooting you in the foot?”

“Yeah.”

“Ok. Do you think, if it’s obvious enough, the self-sabotaging asshole part of your brain won't be able to convince you that they’re not?”

“I mean. Probably. I asked out the Vulture’s daughter with less evidence.”

“You  _ what _ ?!”

“I didn't know who he was at the time!”

“ _ Fuck _ man. Your luck is  _ shit _ .” Wade patted Peter’s shoulder. “But also, you weren't friends with her.”

“Wouldn't that make it harder?”

“If she said no, what would you have done?”

“Been embarrassed.”

“What would you do if either of them say no?”

“I-I don't want to think about that.”

Wade waved his hand. “There's your answer. You’ve got more to lose.”

“You’re not helping!”

“When you’re not being impulsive, you over-plan. I’m helping you over-plan. You’re welcome.”

“Fine. Ok. Thank you.”

“So. Interest. ”

“Yeah.”

“You know how to look for that?”

“Yeah.”

“Ok, so if you know they like you, and you know that, what’s your game plan?”

“I’m probably gonna impulsively ask to kiss them.”

Wade shrugged. “That works. As long as you ask before you do.”

“O-of course. Consent is important.”

Peter would know.

Nope! Thought crime!

“Of course.” Wade nodded awkwardly, before getting up. “You can get home alright?” 

“Yep.”

“I’ll leave you to it, then. Good luck, kiddo.” Wade patted his head once. “My chariot awaits.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM ALIVE  
> this is a Very Large chapter u r very welcome
> 
> DISCLAIMER: i am VERY aromantic so im not very good at the whole writing romance thing but hey they're cute and i think they deserve the best
> 
> wade's very socially aware when he's in the mood to  
> he usually isn't.


End file.
